


The Heavenly Divine

by fallenoriath



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Royalty AU, guess i just gotta write me a new thing, muse/artist au, they just got done doing the do but that’s only hinted at, this is a gift for a friend but it’s with one of my aus :/, wolf is a bottom in this don’t even @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 08:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenoriath/pseuds/fallenoriath
Summary: Falling in love with you painter and becoming his muse despite the tension from your family and the Lord herself? It’s more likely than you’d think.^^A short Prince Wolfram/Painter Bard gift for my angel of a friend because this ship has literally the smallest amount of content possible! Thank you for everything you do for me boo, you’re such a sweetheart and I hope one day you find your Gala💕





	The Heavenly Divine

**Author's Note:**

> uhh halfway through this i forgot what i was ranting on about and that line is pretty distinguished on accident but hope y’all enjoy it anyways!!

Breath still coming out a soft huffs, Wolfram stood on shaky legs with the silk sheets draped across his body in efforts to cover what he already knew the other to have seen, though this fact didn’t avert the flush that came from the idea of being seen in such an intimate state. Golden eyes found themselves locked in their own reflection as he stared into the mirror hung proudly before his vanity.

Their little meetups had been going on for what had to be a month now, beginning with their lingering stares and soon ended with an hour’s worth of passion pursued by yet another portrait that would take two more visits more— if the painter wasn’t so busy entangled with the future king. It was by far the best excuse to be, his room was to be filled with only the finest of works and who was anyone to judge the prince’s own opinion as to what he disagreed upon as long as his beloved artist was able to spend more time in his quarters.

“Quite the angel, aren’t you?” Came the soft voice that spoke up from the bed.

Eyes flickering from himself to the naked man who sat hugging the pillow, the prince let out a breathy laugh as his eyes were now downcast to the finely sanded wood of the table, “Hardly any of heaven’s divine. Had a saint seen me in such a state I’d be but a pile of ashes in God’s wrath though similar a feeling wavers from mine own family.” 

Bard refused to respond to such a statement and instead shook himself free on the bed’s lavish comfort in order to join his partner who sat flush in the chair, a chaste kiss being planted atop the man’s head. “Get to bed,” he murmured into the locks, scooping the manicured hand into his much rougher one, “no point mourning over that in which we’re incapable of controlling.” After a brief moment of protest, the prince finally trudged back to the large bed and was joined by the painter a moment later, a hair comb now in hand.

“Turn around.”

“And why so? I’ve no need to hide our activities when in the comfort of my own chamber.”

The blond rolled his eyes, an action that would surely have resulted in the utmost punishment had he down it in the presence of any ruler less forgiving. “You’re always going on about being the future king, shouldn’t someone of such status be presentable at any given moment?”

A soft smile crossed his features when in turn the prince grunted a sweet “fine…” in response and soon, the golden comb slid through equally heavenly locks without a single tug, the vanilla oils he’d consistently been bathed in making the hair to be thousands of silk strands, all awaiting their turn to be woven into the beauty that was the beloved future kingdom holder.

While working through his lover’s hair that needed no further help, the blond busied himself by pressed short kisses against the male’s spine, lips nudging the few notches visible when he slouched in the bed they’d both sunk into. With a few minutes of mindlessly combing through the man’s hair, Wolfram finally batted at the other’s leg, “Alright, alright I think it’s good now.”

Shifting around, muse and artist stared at one another with lidded eyes, left with nothing less than their endearment as each awaited the other to speak. Plush lips opened softly, a pout to his smile as he placed a gentle hand to his painter’s shoulder, “Stay here, I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Bard’s face fell at the hand and half expected he’d have been urged out of the room or accused of taking up too much of the royal’s time before listening to what he had to say. Head eagerly peaking in the direction his partner had taken off, his brow furrowed upon seeing the male stop just before the cushion in which the prince’s crown sat only to scoop it up to be taken back to the bed.

Without a word, Wolfram smoothed down the blond’s hair before carefully slipping on the heavy, yet delicate, gold encrusted headdress. His heart rose to his throat as he managed to grasp a surprise Bard’s chin in his hands, choking out, “Don’t ever let anyone else see you like this.” There was a lingering sweetness in his harsh tone that he hadn’t originally meant, though the possession in such a statement called for. It churned in his stomach, the thought of his lover being able to rule at his side as they were freed from the burden of the cheap societal views created by none other than the  _ loving _ Lord that smite men like the two who merely wished to rest in their own Eden.

“Of course,” Bard breathed out, sinful hands slipping beneath the prided jewels to hold it in front of him, “but I’m afraid this looks far better atop your own crown.” Flashing a smile, he hummed, “Far too heavy for a painter I’m afraid. I suppose for now you’ll just have to wear it for the both of us.”


End file.
